


Hazard To His Health

by freshavocadosforfeetpics



Series: Hazardous Effects [1]
Category: Call of Duty (Video Games), Tom Clancy's The Division
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshavocadosforfeetpics/pseuds/freshavocadosforfeetpics
Summary: Agent “Hazard”, operative of the division is used to working on her own. In fact, she avoids teamwork with desperation.Which makes it safe to say that the arrival of Task Force 141 is entirely frustrating.With a shared “can you not” attitude, Hazard and Ghost clash with disastrous effects.
Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Hazardous Effects [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899508
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Hazard To His Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headache is pain in any region of the head. A headache may appear as a sharp pain, a throbbing sensation or a dull ache.

The last thing Agent Hazard expected when she walked into the Operations room in the White House was to see a bunch of soldiers arguing with Manny. They were obviously not from around here as no one was dumb enough for that. The group was decently sized, all male and tall, standing strong.

Covered in blood and a decent amount of human brains, Hazard looked like hell and felt like hell. Nonchalantly flicking some remains off her vest, she sits down in one of the chairs at the map table. Many eyes track her movements as she sheds her backpack and AR to the ground. Hazard notes the suppressed flinches and grimaces as she carelessly tosses her sidearm onto the table, with Manny throwing her a displeased look. 

“So, anyone gonna fill me in about why you guys are bitching?” Digging her hand into her removed backpack, she pulls out a package of half squashed cigarettes. "I could hear you guys from down stairs. You're scaring the children Ortega, and by children I mean the JTF. They're getting jumpier."

A man with chops and moustache speaks up. “Think that’s outside your classification kid, why don’t you leave this to the adults.” He has a heavy British accent, gruff and domineering, looking older than the bunch by a little bit.

"I wasn't asking you, old man. Manny, what’s going on?” She avoids the other man’s quickly angering gaze, instead looking towards her trusted friend.

“A task force has been sent in from England, here about a warlord here to cause chaos. But as I was telling them before you came was that if there was 'another' warlord we would know about it.”

The arguing began again, loud enough to restart her headache. Massaging her fingers at her temples, she interrupted again.

“Yeah, that might be a problem Manny.” His gaze snapped over to her. “Remember how you told me not to go snooping at that convention centre?”

“You didn’t. Hazard, I swear to fucking god.” His fingers clutch at the bridge of his nose. “For fuck's sake, you are going to get yourself killed.”

“Look, you can lecture me later. But the pommies here might be right. I found this.” Hazard flicks a micro-echo onto the table. Holograms of civilians and Hyenas fighting light up, the audio catching screams. The group watches in horrified fascination as a new figure accompanied by highly geared soldiers enters. The echo is over quickly, with a massacre of hyenas and civilians, not a single one left alive.

“I can't say I've ever seen him before. But by the looks of it, he is here to stay. In the last 36 hours I’ve had over nine reports of mass graves found in squares across the city. Civilians, Hyenas, True Sons, even Outcasts. Bodies mixed together.” Hazard groans quietly. “Whoever this guy is, he means business.”

Manny looks horrified. “Well fuck.” Looking towards the task force, he grimaces slightly. “Looks like I owe you all an apology.”

A man with a mohawk gives a small nod in respect. “Don’t worry about it. We wouldn’t take too kindly to strangers barging into our own operations either.”

“Well in that case, Hazard meet Task Force 141. Task Force 141, this is Agent Hazard, she is our major operative in the city and handles ninety percent of our military operations. I'll see if I can contact Agent Kelso, get her to run some field research. Now Hazard, can you please show these men to the barracks in the East wing. They are empty and private, should be good for you guys. ”

“Aww fuck. I have to share now?” Hazard pouts at her supervisor, who was admittedly less than impressed.

“Hazard.” Manny warns lightly. “Don’t think I haven’t forgot about you specifically disobeying my orders.”

“Bitch, we’re the same rank!”

“I’m your coordinator, I’m here to make sure you know what you’re doing, as well as making sure you don’t go off the rails to become a rogue like Keener.”

“Wow low blow asshole. You and I both know Aaron had a few screws loose well before the incident.” Hazard flips the bird in mock anger. “Come on children, it’s a little bit of a walk.” The group exchanges a look before following her out the door.

They trek through the halls of the White House with a man named Roach fawning over the paintings and architecture. Hazard laughs slightly, before plucking the medal from the broken case that he was in awe over. Flinging the small but likely priceless object towards him, she tells him to keep it.

“What? This is historically priceless, I can’t just take it! That's illegal.” He looks entirely flabbergasted.

“Why not? It’s not like they will miss it, everyone who probably cares has either been evacuated or killed and the president is dead so....” Hazard shrugs her shoulders before continuing to walk. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees the solider slip the medal into his pocket. 

Finally making it into the barracks, Hazard points out the facilities. “Here are the sleeping quarters, over there are the communal bathrooms, down stairs is the firing range, down the hall is the gym, and past that is the common room, where the JTF personnel and soldiers as well as some refugees go to unwind and chill out, keep up morale you know?” Twirling to face the group, Hazard forces a comforting smile.

“As previously stated, I’m Hazard, an agent of the Strategic Homeland Division, SHD or the Division for short. You want some help fucking up the enemy, I’m one short radio away. Now who are you guys?” 

The man with the chops talks first. “Captain John Price at your service. I'm in charge of this bunch.”

The next was the man with the mohawk. “Captain John ‘Soap’ MacTavish.” Huh soap, what a weird name. Hazard makes a note to ask the team about their strange nicknames.

One by one the rest of the group introduced themselves.

Names like Chemo, Roach, Meat, Archer, Ozone, Rocket, Toad, Rook and Scarecrow were introduced and Hazard was immediately struck with the difficulty of remembering them all.

The only person left to identify themselves was a man in a balaclava with a ghost on it. Standing at tense attention with his hand resting on his side arm, the man made a threatening figure. Trying to ignore his frustrating silence, Hazard gives him a moment to snap out of it. However as the moment stretched, Hazard succumbed to her easily miffed temperament.

“And you are, Douchebaggette?” 

“Douchebaggette?” Hazard’s dislike for his attitude is almost parallel with her immediate liking of his voice. A richly low tone, serious and tense. It sends a shiver down her spine. “You can call me Ghost.”

“Ooh, how creative.” Hazard snarked slightly, easing her eyebrows at the man. “Cause of the mask right?”

“Are you always this annoyingly excitable?” Again, annoying attitude but attractive voice.

“I don’t know, are you always this temperamental?” Hazard fires back, a smartass smile well and truly setting in.

“Guys, cut it out.” Soap tries to mediate but his comrade doesn’t comply.

“Rich coming from you kid, how old are you, like twenty?”

“I’m twenty two, dinosaur. How’s the arthritis bitch-ass?”

“Who the fuck you calling bi-” He steps forward threateningly.

“Alright, that’s enough you two. This isn’t high school, so grow the fuck up.” Price reprimands the soldiers.

“He started it.” Hazard refuses to let him have the last word, almost embarrassed to admit that she was pouting slightly.

“And I’m ending it. You’re soldiers, not children.”

“Alright alright, fine. It’s nice to meet you Ghost.” Squinting in amusement, Hazard moves towards her own bed, in the very corner of the room as the others fan out to find their own. “Anyway, try not to start any fires while I’m gone.”

Grabbing a change of clothes and her toiletries, Hazard makes a bee line towards the bathrooms before anyone can say anything else, muttering under her breath about how Ghost is a dumbass name.

Hopefully by having a shower and washing off the blood and gore covering her, Hazard could get rid of her steadily worsening headache.


End file.
